


Pause

by Deniera



Series: FFXV Prompts [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blind Ignis Scientia, Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Prompto Argentum, Zegnautus Keep, vesperpool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25711003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deniera/pseuds/Deniera
Summary: [I'm uploading old prompts I filled in late 2017 on Tumblr, so if this seems familiar, you might have seen it there back then. I haven't written since that time and I sort of want to close the door behind me before I begin something new.]A look into Gladio's and Ignis' mind when faced with the emotional challenges that come with injuries and loss on their journey through Eos.
Series: FFXV Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863619
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: This is Angst sorry. I was thinking during the road trip, they have only one or two potions left and both Prompto and Noctis are badly hurt :)

The potion was pushed aside.

“No, give ‘em to Prompto,” Noctis slurred, barely conscious.

“Noctis,” Ignis said, hands shaking while he kept Noct upright. He was drenched in blood from the gaping wound at Noctis' side, and for once he seemed to be unable to think straight, frantically trying to get Noctis to use one of the curatives.

Noctis groaned and swatted at the bottle in Ignis’ hands. “‘m good, Iggy,”

This was a mess. They were almost out of potions, only two left, out of elixirs, out of everything. The last shop they had seen was miles ago, the Regalia was parked somewhere far away at the street – this was a mess.

The muggy water of the Vesperpool was drenching all of them, seeping into their damp clothes and keeping them wet and cold. They had to get Noct out of it; his wound would easily get infected if he sat in it any longer.

Prompto was a dead weight in Gladio’s arms that he did not want to think about. There was blood dripping from him as well, an ugly wound on his head that probably looked worse than it was – at least Gladio hoped as much. Head injuries always bled a lot, didn't they?

Prompto was unconscious, his breath barely there, and he was covered in bruises. His clothes were shredded at parts and one of his hands was a bloody mess as well.

“Noct, c’mon,” Gladio ground out, rougher than intended. “We gotta move. Take the damn potions.”

“Prompto,” Noct moaned, swaying and leaning heavily on Ignis. “He needs ‘em more.”

“Highness–”

“Give’m one at least,” Noctis swallowed and had to close his eyes before he continued, “please. I can walk.”

Ignis looked up at Gladio, desperation creeping into his expression.

“Fine. C’mon, do it, Iggy,” Gladio said trough clenched teeth. One potion alone was unlikely to close Noct’s wound completely, it looked too big and too severe. But they had to move, _now._ Gladio was not only scared for Noctis, but for Prompto as well, the small man lying silent and motionless in his arms.

This would be haunting Gladio for a long time.

“We’ll be slow, but at least we’ll get out of here,” he ground out. “You gotta help him walk, Ignis. C’mon.”

Ignis stared at him for a second, indecisive, and then got moving. He unscrewed one of the potions and emptied it unceremoniously over Noctis head, where the turquoise liquid immediately dissolved into magical sparks. 

Noctis groaned and, with Ignis help, managed to stand up.

Ignis repeated the process with their last potion on Prompto, who remained creepily still.

Noct leaned on Ignis, looking at his best friend in Gladio’s arms with a pained expression.

“Can you wash his face?” he croaked. “Just– Get the blood off?”

Gladio was about to say no, they _really needed to leave before anything else would attack them_ , but Ignis was already bending down to collect some water in his hands, and he cleaned Prompto with quick, efficient strokes.

Gladio clenched his teeth again, careful to not dig his hands into Prompto's soft flesh, and started to walk.

He heard Noctis small voice behind him, a whimpered “Prompto,” and had to remind himself to keep calm.

Noctis felt bad about Prompto. Hell, he did, too. His focus had been on Noct, always on Noct, but he should have watched out better for their youngest one. Prompto could hand out just fine, but he was still prone to getting hurt.

Next time. He grunted, looking down at Prompto’s still motionless body, his closed eyes, his slack mouth. The wound on his forehead actually looked worse than Gladio had hoped, now that the bleeding had stopped. That it was still there in the first place was evidence enough that it had been more severe than they had thought. It was probably good that Noctis had insisted on leaving one of the potions to him.

Gladio pressed his eyes shut for a moment. He had not fought Gilgamesh for nothing. His father had served his king well his whole life without ever letting him down, and Gladio couldn’t even manage _one_ fight. What a joke.

He was determined to follow in his father’s footsteps. He was determined to work harder, train more, pay more attention. He would keep Noctis save, and Prompto as well.

He could do it. He was going to find a way. 

He would not let this happen again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: This got super angsty sorry If you're still taking prompts what about gladio and ignis being so distraught and panicked with nocts' disappearance into the crystal they forget for a second that prompto probably needs rest and food and medical attention and as they're arguing prompto is struggling to keep up right, and at one point they just hear a loud, heavy, thump of flesh against metal and they both stop in sudden dawning horror and turn around and promptos passed out, bleeding, on the floor?

This was all wrong.

Ignis’s breathing was heavy and his mind was spinning. The man Prompto had just shot, who Ignis had heard and felt falling to the floor, had stood up and walked away from them, chuckling and very much alive.

His hand clenched around the metal railing, the only thing grounding him in the darkness, the crystal somewhere in there with them – Ignis didn’t know where. He couldn’t see and there was no sound and no one was talking to him, there was no time, just panicked urgency.

He just knew Noctis was gone, and that Ardyn Izunia was responsible for it.

Something had happened with the crystal, he had only heard Prompto’s desperate cry, Noctis’ panicked voice, the thumb-thumb-thumbing of the crystal’s pulsating energy, Gladio shouting and then-

Silence.

Noctis was gone.

Izunia was gone.

The crystal was quiet. The energy thrumming through the hall somewhere in Zegnautus Keep was gone, too, and Ignis had never felt this unsettled before, not even after Altissia, after his sight had been taken from him.

He felt his heart beating out of his chest, blood rushing in his ears, and he imagined that Prompto and Gladio were probably as petrified as he was with what just had happened.

Gladio was exhaling, shakily, and after a second Ignis heard him walking, somewhere away from him. To where he had last heard Noctis voice, if the sound of his boots on the metal floor was any indicator. Ignis clenched his hand around the railing.

“Don’t get too close,” he rasped out.

There was moment of silence.

“Noct is in there,” Gladio growled. “He’s _in there_. We have to get him out!”

Ignis heard him shuffling. “If any of you would explain to me what happened-“ he ground out, and then he heard a heavy thumb just in front of him, the floor vibrating with the force of a heavy impact.

For a moment, it was like the world had slowed down. It was only seconds, but to Ignis it felt like an eternity while he heard Gladio inhale shakily, while he heard him choke and stumble close, a broken “Prompto” on his lips, while the realization of what had just happened was seeping into him like gooey poison.

Prompto had just collapsed, right in front of him, and Ignis had done nothing to prevent it, nothing to catch him. For just a moment, he had forgotten Prompto was there with them.

He suddenly remembered how they had spent the night before in one of the barracks of the keep, how Prompto couldn’t stop shaking while they had all bundled up together, how tight his voice had been, how exhausted he had sounded, how fazed, like he couldn’t believe they had really found him.

He remembered how Prompto had caught him time and time again ever after they had left Altissia, whenever Ignis had stumbled, unused to his lacking sight, unused to the cane in his hand, Prompto’s warm hands on his arm, his chest, grounding him, pulling him back up gently.

Suddenly everything was moving too fast and reality was hitting him with enough force to punch the air out of his lungs and make him stumble, desperately clutching onto the metal railing.

He felt sick to his stomach.

He heard Gladio curse, sounding more desperate than Ignis had ever heard him.

“Prompto collapsed,” he said, his voice thin, shaking. There was more rustling and Ignis hoped that it was Gladio, picking Prompto up.

He swallowed, his mouth dry. “I know,” he said hoarsely. “We have to- he needs-“

His stomach sunk when he realized that none of their potions would probably work anymore. If Noctis was gone, somehow swallowed by the crystal, the magic in the room so obviously absent, none of their curatives would be of any use.

“He needs rest,” he said. “He- we have to get him out of here. Rest, and food.”

He heard Gladio stumble towards him, probably just as out of his mind as Ignis was.

“The crystal, “Gladio said.

“We can come back for that later. It won’t go anywhere.” Ignis hoped Gladio wouldn’t hear the tremor in his voice. He didn’t think there would be a point to come back. The crystal was obviously nothing more than a dead rock by now, and he didn’t believe for a second that Noct was physically in there. The thrumming magic in the room while Noctis had begged for them to help him had suggested that he had disappeared to somewhere else entirely. 

He moved along the railing trying to keep up with Gladio’s heavy steps in front of him, his hands shaking, the cane more hindrance than help.

Another realization hit him, and he stopped dead in his tracks. They had no access to their weapons, to anything that had been stored in the arminger. He tried to connect with the magic Noct had allowed him to dip into, and failed. They were completely defenceless and the place was crawling with demons.

They had to get out.

“Ignis,” Gladio’s voice rasped somewhere in front of him, and he swallowed and tried to follow.

In the eerie silence of the keep, he thought he heard the echoes of a deep, pleased laugh.


End file.
